


Winter's Lioness

by nicoleamari



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 20:24:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11298189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicoleamari/pseuds/nicoleamari
Summary: The youngest Lannister is connected with both Dorne and the remaining Targaryens, proving her to be one of the most dangerous players in the Game of Thrones, especially when she sits at Robb Stark's side.





	1. Sunrise

Jaime Lannister let his eyes sweep the horizon as dawn broke, watching the colours splash up as the sun breached, bobbing like a bright, golden orb over Blackwater Bay. Waves hurled themselves against the rock shelves of the cliffs and far below, he could hear the gulls screaming. Closing the balcony doors behind him, he shut the morning chill from the room before he paced to the door, swinging it wide and stepping through into the hallway. Down a long way to his right, he could almost hear the whores who basked in his sister’s husband’s quarters, a spike of anger darkening his mood as he took the stairs two at a time before he reached the central hall.

The second door on the left was a jar and he knocked once before entering, closing the heavy door behind him. His younger sister lay sprawled beneath a thin sheet, her light blonde hair twisted into a braid and her pale blue eyes, which he knew almost as well as his own, were closed. 

“Valencia.” He teased, giving the bed a shake as he walked to her side, watching the grip of slumber fade from Valencia’s features and her eyes cracked open, big and blue as the sea. 

“Jaime.” She grumbled, voice thick with sleep. She had returned late the past evening and their older sister, Jaime’s twin worried for her. 

“We missed you at the feast.” He said gently, his little sister was his favourite sibling, though he and his dwarf of a brother were good friends but Cersei, the eldest barely got along with her own twin, let alone her dwarf brother and her younger sister. Valencia and Cersei argued over almost everything, but Cersei going to their father to persuade him to wed the Stark’s eldest to Valencia and then had even managed to get it approved by her husband, King Robert Baratheon. Valencia was still furious about the marriage, she had had no intention of marrying until Tywin forced her to on her 20th name day, but she had barely seen out her 16th and Tywin had already broken his promise.

Jaime, despite having a different mother to Valencia, saw her as the closest to him, although he cared more for her than he would admit, even to Cersei, who was prone to jealous rages that weren’t helped by the King’s whoring. But Cersei cared not about the whoring, her paramour, Oberyn Martell kept her well satisfied, the only problem at the moment was that he happened to have ventured back down to Dorne for several months and that had created tension between the Lannister sisters, because of a stray taunt that Valencia had made towards Cersei.

Valencia rubbed the sleep from her eyes before standing slowly, and without looking back at him, striding to fetch her robe, She slid the silken slip around her shoulders before drawing it tightly. 

“When do we leave for Winterfell?” Jaime arched a brow, she was still angry about the marriage clearly, and in all honesty, he was angry about it as well, he did not want to leave his sister in the cold of the North after the King made the journey to recruit Ned Stark as his new hand. Valencia’s handmaidens swept in, bowing quickly first at Valencia, then at Jaime before they hurried around Valencia, beginning to strip her of her robe and the slip she wore to sleep. Jaime turned to give her some privacy, though her body was not unfamiliar to him, he still felt the need. She let out a soft sound and he glanced back to see her now mostly dressed, rosebud mouth pouting. 

“When do we leave Jaime, I won’t ask again.” He grinned, this was the girl he knew well. 

“We leave on the hour.” He said and she swore loudly.

“Fuck Jaime, why didn’t you say?” He smirked, watching for the next ten minutes as she hurled clothes at the case before one of her handmaidens shut it tightly and Valencia composed herself. 

“We should break our fast now with the others. Shall we?” He grinned, holding his arm out to her. She was dressed in that dark purple dress she favoured, her hair in loose curls because of the now detangled braid she had slept in and despite her youth, she looked beyond her age, dark blue eyes full of the wisdom her older brother Tyrion held, the mischievous and sly streak that Cersei had and her eldest brother’s bravery.

It seemed she had gotten the best out of all the siblings, she even had Tywin’s impassive features in which it made her impossible to read, but she had her mother’s sweet streak, which annoyed Cersei to the heavens. They picked their way through the corridor to the Great Hall, where the rest of the court was already seated. Cersei gave them a sharp look before Jaime left Valencia’s side to station himself at the King’s shoulder, whilst his younger sister slid in next to his niece and nephew. Tommen and Myrcella glanced up at Valencia’s arrival, their sweet voices a dance as they spoke soft words to their aunt, who watched them with the fondness she reserved only for members of her family.

She would do well in the North, Jaime knew. She was strong and despite having that sweet streak, she could match Cersei tongue for tongue and her wit was a sharp as Jaime’s sword any day. He spotted Tyrion on one of the lower tables, drinking already from a mug and then made eye contact with his twin. Cersei was in every sense a lioness, her children were one of the few things that she truly loved, with their soft dark hair and their bright blue eyes that matched her own. She had miscarried her first child when Valencia had been four and that, Jaime knew, had marred her forever. Valencia laughed loudly at something little Tommen was saying, attracting the king’s gaze and he saw the other man smile briefly as he looked upon his sister-in-law and children, but it faded far too briefly.

 

“Go on. Father’s watching.” Jon Snow said, patting Bran’s shoulder briefly as Robb Stark looked on. His younger brother gripped the bow tightly as Robb glanced to where his mother and father stood, watching from above. 

“And your mother.” Jon said and Robb picked up on the slight resentment that underlay his tone, wanting to roll his eyes at the bastard. Bran released the bowstring and the arrow thunked into the ground in front of the target and gales of laughter went up. Ned Stark shook his head, smiling fondly. 

“And which one of you was a marksman at ten? Keep practicing, Bran. Go on.” Jon stepped forward, hiding his smile. 

“Don’t think too much, Bran.” Robb nodded. 

“Relax your bow arm.” Bran pulled his arm back and before he could release it, an arrow slammed into the bullseye. Surprised, both Jon and Robb turned to see Arya, their youngest sister grinning at them. She curtseyed before Bran raced after her, both boys laughing loudly. 

“Quick, Bran, faster!” They called but Arya was always faster. Catelyn and Ned caught Robb before he could finish stowing the arrows back and by the looks on their faces, he wasn’t going to enjoy this news. 

“Robb, we have had raven from King’s Landing, the King, his Queen and the court are journeying up here for two reasons. We believe Ned will be requested to become the Hand of the King, but Queen Cersei has had a hand in the letter, as it requests that there be a union between the Lannisters and the Starks.” Robb’s face pinched, trying desperately to remember his lessons on the Lannisters. There were the twins, the Kingslayer and the Queen and then there was the Imp, Tyrion Lannister. He racked at his brain before it came to him. Tywin Lannister had remarried, to a noble woman named Serene and their only child, a girl of his age, Valencia Lannister. His eyes narrowed as he looked back to his parents. 

“You want me to be wedded to Valencia Lannister?” Catelyn swallowed and her and his father shared a look. 

“Robb, we have about as much of a choice as you do. Valencia is not like her siblings, she is not cruel like the queen nor is she anything like her brothers. I believe you and Arya will probably take to her well. I have met her but once, when she was younger and she is a sweet child, not the type that you want to go against but not the kind you need to worry about. I daresay you will enjoy your union with her, she is very beautiful.” Robb scoffed, striding away through the mud, eyes flashing dangerously. He would not stand for it, a Lannister was a Lannister, no matter what disguise they wore.

The ride was loathsome. Valencia hated riding horseback for such a time, she was not suited to a month on the road and she refused to sit caged in the carriages like her sister and niece did. Her nephew rode close to her, he was only thirteen but he handled the horse as well as any of the other men. Valencia rode some way behind the Hound, next to Jaime and Tyrion, who was constantly reading on his pony and had nearly fallen off several times. Winterfell rose on the horizon and Valencia murmured quietly to her horse before she and Tyrion exchanged mischievous looks before both surged forward, moving swiftly to the front. The Hound, through his bulbous helmet gave them both dark looks before Jaime joined them, chuckling softly.

The gates to Winterfell were opened when they reached them, by that time the Lannister siblings had all dropped back into formation. They poured through the gates and the gazes of those assembled in the courtyard made Valencia itch a tad, she stuck close to her brothers as they dismounted and walked to join Cersei, Myrcella and Tommen behind the King. The gathering were all bent as Robert signalled for all to rise and Valencia hid a smile at the look of shock that flashed across Ned Stark’s features as he regarded his old friend. 

“Your Grace.” Ned said, kissing Robert’s hand before pulling his shoulders back into place. 

“You’ve got fat.” Robert stated and Valencia hid her snigger as Ned gave him a look up and down, before both burst into fits of laughter. 

“Cat!” Robert said, embracing Lady Catelyn who smiled. 

“Your Grace.” Robert chuckled. 

“Nine years. Why haven’t I seen you? Where the hell have you been?” Lord Stark inclined his head. 

“Guarding the North for you, Your Grace. Winterfell is yours.” The youngest girl in the Stark line called quietly to her siblings. 

“Where’s the Imp?” Tyrion squared his shoulders in false pride that made both Jaime and Valencia chuckle as they stood together silently, they need not make introductions, they were no royals.

“The oldest one’s eyes have scarce left your face since we arrived.” Jaime muttered into Valencia’s ear and she raised an eyebrow at him briefly before eyeing off the oldest Stark boy. Coppery hair, like his mother’s, icy blue eyes and a strong jaw made for a handsome boy and Valencia removed her eyes before she could betray her thoughts in them. 

“Valencia?” Cersei called sweetly, eyes sweeping the crowds as her elder sister searched for her. 

“There you are, come and greet the Starks my dear sister.” Valencia growled under her breath, feeling Jaime vibrating with laughter and saw Tyrion’s smirk as she strode out from her hiding place between the two of them. She smiled warmly at Ned Stark, it had been a long time since she had seen the Lord of the North. 

“Lord Stark.” She greeted and curtsied gracefully before she turned a brighter smile to Lady Catelyn, who opened her arms to her. Valencia slipped into the warm embrace. 

“Lady Cat.” Catelyn laughed quietly. 

“You haven’t called me that since you were 7. My, how you have grown Valencia. You look so much like your mother.” Valencia flashed white teeth and then Catelyn turned to her eldest.

“Robb, this is Lady Valencia Lannister, the youngest of the Lannisters.” Valencia tilted her head to the beautiful boy and curtsied briefly. 

“Lovely to meet you.” The russet haired boy studied her closely for a moment before Valencia prickled and let a cold look stain her features.

“I hope to speak with you again.” She snapped before moving to the next child, a boy placed slightly further back. She remembered Cersei mentioning the bastard child, Jon Snow and smiled warmly at him. 

“Hello Jon Snow.” He looked startled at her greeting and she watched unknown emotions flicker through Robb Stark’s features before she embraced Jon Snow quickly. 

“Lady Valencia.” He stuttered and she released him. 

“I have been looking forward to meeting you!” He flushed and she then turned to the next, a pretty red haired girl. 

“You must be Sansa, you look like your mother.” Sansa flushed and smiled prettily.

“Thank you Lady Valencia.” Valencia scoffed quietly. 

“You may call me Valencia, sweet one.”

“Take me to your crypt. I want to pay my respects.” Robert said, catching Valencia’s attention as she introduced herself to the younger two, Arya, Bran and the little one Rickon. 

“We’ve been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait.” Cersei said softly but Valencia knew the king better than her sister did and didn’t wait for the argument, instead smiling at the Stark family and the men gathered behind them before returning to her place beside her brothers.

 

Much later in the day, once Tyrion had returned from the whorehouse, the feast was held in honour of the king’s arrival. Valencia entered silently, she was late, as was per usual, but Jaime always saved her a place far away enough from Cersei’s furious gaze. Sliding into a seat at one of the lower tables, between Arya and the Ward, she remembered him being called Theon and she almost instantly disliked the dark, beady eyes. Arya smiled up at her, watching as the older girl loaded a plate full of meats and several small triangles of cheese before beginning to dine.

Despite her distance from the high table, she could still feel Cersei’s gaze on her and when she glanced at her sister, she could see the pain hidden beneath the queen’s cold gaze. Valencia’s eyes flicked right, to the king and the reason for Cersei’s pain became imminent. A wench lay across his lap, occasionally pressing grapes to his lips and Catelyn Stark, next to Cersei, looked pained. 

“Dear sister, come and dance with me?” Valencia called, standing quickly. Cersei’s eyes flickered around and Valencia saw Catelyn’s smile before the other woman could mask it, as the sullen queen rose and stalked to where her younger sister stood. Valencia laced her fingers with Cersei’s cold ones and dragged her back, spinning her. It had been a long time since they had done this. Cersei, in her early stages as queen had taught Valencia to dance and the few memories that Valencia could recall, had been bright and happy. The sisters spun as the music rose and Valencia saw Cersei’s smile as she spun her and the world around them seemed to halt as the two, breathing hard, burst into laughter. Cersei placed her hands on Valencia’s shoulders briefly. 

“My sister, thank you. You warm my heart.” Then, with a swift nod, Cersei turned on her heel and strode from the room. No one followed the queen. Valencia turned immediately back to the high table, catching Catelyn’s eye and winking before a pair of hands descended to her hips. Valencia stiffened, inhaling the air trying to detect whether it was one of her brothers or if she needed to raise her elbows. The smell of wood smoke and pine was one she didn’t associate either with Jaime, who smelled like the sea and like the chainmail that rarely left him, whilst Tyrion seemed to make like the books he buried his nose in and the scent of paper and the odd incense of the libraries in King’s Landing seemed to cling to him. She allowed herself to relax as they swayed, before she detected him lowering his face so it was close to hers. 

“I don’t think anyone has ever seen the queen smile like that.” Robb Stark murmured into her ear and Valencia felt the small hairs coating her spine prickle with awareness. 

“Well, I am her favourite sister. I know her well and I know exactly how to make her tick. That’s why I’m so dangerous to her.” Robb spun her around and she found herself pressed against his chest, he was quite tall and was almost a head taller than her. Briefly, Valencia pitied Tyrion for being so short and having to look up at everyone, his neck must get terribly sore and it would be degrading as such that people always looked down at you.

“Is it true?” He asked her, breath warm on her cheeks and she paused.

“What’s true?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes and she bit her lips before she could retaliate. 

“That we are to be wed.” Valencia stiffened and he seemed to notice. 

“Did you know?” He asked her curtly and she nodded briefly. 

“You seem to be as happy about it as I am.” He murmured and she eyed him briefly. 

“I know my duty. Do you?” She slipped from his arms, allowing herself into the circle Sansa and Arya were dancing in, aware of his gaze burning into her back.

“Your pardon.” Ned Stark said as Jaime Lannister placed himself between Ned and his son. 

“I hear we might be neighbours soon. I hope it’s true.” The Kingslayer said, accompanying the statement with an arched brow. Ned’s eyes flickered over the women and men dancing, spotting Robb and followed his son’s gaze to the youngest Lannister. 

“Yes, the king has honoured me with his offer.” Jaime hummed at his answer, turning slightly to observe his sister and Ned’s son. 

“Your son and my little sister, do you approve of that match?” Ned prickled, realising that the Kingslayer was indeed not pleased with this, and from his eyes, Ned could see fury burning beneath the blue.

“Robb was always going to be matched with a noble woman of my choosing.” Ned said carefully. 

“I never imagined it would be the sister of the queen, nor that she would be as fair as she is.” Jaime did not rise to any of Ned’s words, so he continued. 

“I know my son, and with Valencia, I believe that he will find happiness. Robb is stubborn but he will come around, I believe and your sister will thrive here in the North. She will do well with Robb, if only she lets him in and he allows his heart to be touched.” Jaime did not say anything for several drumbeats.

“My sister is the best person I know. She deserves the best, she is the only person in this world who deserves the happiness she will receive by marrying.” Ned did not have anything to add. Jaime spoke highly of the younger Lannister, and it seemed even the cold queen had allowed Valencia into her heart. 

“I’m sure we’ll have a tournament to celebrate your new title, if you accept. It would be good to have you in the field. The competition has become a bit stale.” Jaime said, changing the topic easily. 

“I don’t fight in tournaments.” Ned answered, glad for the change in subjects.

“No? Getting a little old for it?” Jaime teased and Ned managed a smile. 

“I don’t fight in tournaments because when I fight a man for real, I don’t want him to know what I can do.” Ned answered and Jaime smirked. 

“Well said.”

A slight commotion had arisen at the table where Ned’s girls sat, Arya had flipped an orange into Sansa’s face, to which the red haired girl did not take kindly. “

Arya!” Sansa shrieked and Valencia was laughing quietly despite it all, before Catelyn gestured to Robb, who was also laughing, to intervene. Valencia seemed to notice and wrapped her an arm around Arya’s waist. 

“Come on, little one, time for bed.” Robb paused, eyes flicking helplessly between Catelyn and Valencia, who had paused to talk to Jon as she and Arya headed out. Catelyn motioned for him to follow her and with a sigh, he stood slowly, trudging after the girls.

Robb couldn’t help the twist of his stomach as he watched his father’s bastard interact with the girl he could call his betrothed. He strode over, eyeing Jon up and down, making the other man aware of his stance. Jon’s eyes flickered nervously up and he smiled uneasily at Valencia, before muttering his apologies and slipping away. Valencia looked put out, blue eyes confused and Robb murmured in her ear.

“Are you getting Arya to bed or not?” She glanced briefly at him, ice leaking through her gaze but she managed a smile. 

“Yes. We were just heading up there now. Do I need a chaperone or do you trust me enough to go by myself?” Her tone was teasing but her eyes glinted coldly. He smirked at her, knowing she was uncomfortable in his presence. 

“You’re a Lannister. I’ll accompany you, lest you lose your way.” She rolled her shoulders before they moved off, leaving the warmth and the noise of the feast far behind. Robb picked his way to Arya’s room, where her direwolf sat on the foot of her bed, sleek and grey. 

“Nymeria!” Arya cried and he watched Valencia stiffen at the familiar name before she caught sight of the wolf. 

“You have a wolf?” Valencia’s voice cracked in the midst of her sentence and he caught sight of her face paling. His eyes raised to her in surprise as she took a deliberate step back and he placed a hand on her lower back, feeling the tension that lay in the muscles there.

“Are you okay?” He asked her quietly, aware that something was most definitely wrong. She glanced back at him, briefly.

“I’m fine. Just shocked is all.” Robb nodded swiftly and weaved around her to pull the sheets from Arya’s bed back and tapped it, as his littlest sister shed her clothing down to her undergarments and slid into bed. 

“There you go.” Robb murmured, kissing her forehead gently and Valencia smiled at the little girl.

“Goodnight little one.” Arya smiled, teeth glinting in the firelight. 

“Night Robb, night Val.” Robb closed the door behind them as they slipped back into the corridor, he turned to her. 

“Do you think you will be happy here?” Valencia focused her attention on the floor for a moment before muttering.

“Do you think you’ll be happy when I’m here?”


	2. Daybreak

The young Stark boy, Bran, was falling. Valencia had left Winterfell with Sansa and Arya to go looking for trolls, in Arya’s case and flowers in Sansa’s case and they went by horse into the valley over. Upon their return, Valencia had the bad luck to glance up, just in time to see the small figure slip from the trunk of the tallest tree, hurtling towards the ground and at one moment, smacking against the branches of the tree. 

“Bran!” Valencia screamed as the direwolf joined it’s master’s sisters in their screaming. Valencia leaped from the horse, running to where the small, crumpled body lay, before her eyes flicked up briefly, just in time to see a flash of metal vanishing into the dirt around the tree from which Valencia had seen Bran fall. One of his hands was slick with blood and there was a thin cut on the back of his hand, as though something had glanced off of it.

Her eyes slitted and as she lifted Bran into her arms, she glanced to his face then swearing softly as Catelyn Stark hurried towards her, handing over the small form in her arms. Cat’s face was pale as she held her son before nodding swiftly at Valencia, who laced her fingers tightly with Arya’s and then wound her other arm tightly around Sansa, both of whom looked horrified. 

“Come.” She murmured, tugging them both behind her towards Winterfell, in search of their direwolves, which would hopefully aid in calming them. On the return to their chambers, accompanied by the wolves, Robb Stark strode out from a door and upon seeing him, both sisters seemed to crack, hurling themselves into their older brother’s arms and he held them both, briefly before his eyes flicked up to Valencia’s face. 

“You found him.” It wasn’t a question, but she nodded. 

“Thank you.” He murmured and she nodded again, before turning on her heel and striding away, away of his eyes on her the entire time.

Later in the week, she joined Cersei in Bran’s room. Catelyn had not left her son’s side, much to her family's displeasure and Valencia brought with her a small basket from the kitchens. Apples, a pie and several hunks of cheese all lay wrapped in the wicker basket and Catelyn accepted it with warm thanks, she was barely properly dressed Valencia noted. 

“I would have dressed, your Grace.” Catelyn amended as Cersei’s eyes swept the room and the Lady of Winterfell. 

“This is your home. I'm your guest. Handsome one, isn't he? I lost my first boy, a little black-haired beauty. He was a fighter too... Tried to beat the fever that took him. Forgive me. It's the last thing you need to hear right now.” Catelyn’s eyes were sad and Valencia felt her mouth pinch slightly, Joffrey, they had called him, a beautiful, sweet child who she barely remembered.

“I never knew.” Catelyn murmured and Cersei shook her head.

“It was years ago. Robert was crazed, beat his hands bloody on the wall, all the things men do to show you how much they care... The boy looked just like him. Such a little thing... A bird without feathers. They came to take his body away and Robert held me. I screamed and I battled, but he held me. That little bundle. They took him away and I never saw him again. Never have visited the crypt, never. I pray to the Mother every morning and night that she return your child to you.” Catelyn dipped her head.

“I am grateful…” Cersei nodded stiffly and Valencia knew her sister well enough to see the sadness glinting in the depths of her gaze. 

“Perhaps this time she'll listen.”

 

Valencia ventured down to find her brother talking with Jon Snow, who it seemed, had decided to venture to the Wall to join the Night’s Watch, after his uncle Benjen. Jon, who gripped a sword near the smithy glanced up as Jaime spoke. 

“A sword for the wall?” Valencia knocked her brother’s shoulder with her own gently. 

“I already have one.” Jon told him, shooting a smile at Valencia who returned the gesture sweetly. 

“Good man. Have you swung it yet?” Jaime was teasing gently and Valencia smirked, ducking her head so that Jon did not think he was mocking her. 

“Of course I have.” Jon said stiffly and Jaime grinned. 

“At someone, I mean. It's a strange thing, the first time you cut a man. You realize we're nothing but sacks of meat and blood and some bone to keep it all standing. Let me thank you ahead of time for guarding us all from the perils beyond the Wall... Wildlings and White Walkers and whatnot. We're grateful to have good, strong men like you protecting us.” Jon bristled and Valencia knocked his arm gently. 

“Enough Jaime.” Jon eyed the siblings. 

“We've guarded the Kingdoms for 8 000 years.” Jaime’s eyes twinkled. 

“Is it "we" already? Have you taken your vows then?” Jon was clearly not enjoying this conversation and Valencia shook her head at Jaime briefly. 

“Soon enough.” Jon responded, a cold tone seeping into his voice. 

“Give my regards to the Night's Watch. I'm sure it will be thrilling to serve in such an elite force. And if not, It's only for life.” Valencia couldn’t help but laugh and watched high colour flit across Jon’s cheeks. 

“Jaime, enough.” She snapped, but her eyes were alight with mischief. Her brother looked down at her, it was almost time for him to leave, she was to remain in the North it seemed. When he hugged her tightly she allowed it before pulling away, a solemn look to her usually happy features. 

“I’ll see you in the summers that follow.” Her older brother nodded. 

“See you then little sister.”

 

Catelyn did not leave Bran’s side to see them off, but Valencia, with Arya separating her and Robb, did indeed wave them off. Arya clung to Valencia’s hand, the younger girl and her father were close Valencia understood, but there was no love lost between Sansa and Arya. The youngest, Rickon, had also remained and was now propped in the arms of a maid, bawling his eyes out. When the Lannister party left, many bidding Valencia goodbye as they went, Maester Luwin swept them all back up to where Catelyn remained with Bran. Arya rarely strayed from Valencia’s side, the girl of ten summers and the girl of sixteen summers were quite close and Robb, who had seventeen summers seemed to also be closer to Arya than he was to Sansa, who was not much younger than him. 

“It's time we reviewed the accounts, my lady. You'll want to know how much this royal visit has cost us.” Maester Luwin said quietly, as Valencia walked with Arya to sit by the fire. 

“Talk to Poole about it.” Catelyn snapped and Maester Luwin inhaled sharply.

“Poole went south with Lord Stark, my lady. We need a new steward, and there are several other appointments that require our immediate attention...” Catelyn whirled around. 

“I don't care about appointments!” Valencia raised a brow and Robb sent an annoyed glance towards Luwin. 

“I'll make the appointments. We'll talk about it first thing in the morning.

 

“Very good, my Lord. My Ladies.” He dipped, before leaving the room swiftly. 

“When was the last time you left this room?” Catelyn shook her head. 

“I have to take care of him.” Robb exchanged the briefest glanced with Valencia, before she stood slowly.

“He's not going to die, Cat. Maester Luwin says the most dangerous time has passed.” Catelyn softened her gaze towards the blonde girl.

“What if he's wrong? Bran needs me.” Robb shook his head.

“Rickon needs you. He's six. He doesn't know what's happening. He follows me around all day, clutching my leg, crying...” A wolf howl went up and Valencia glanced around, Catelyn looked distraught. 

“Close the windows! I can't stand it! Please make them stop!” There was more howling and Valencia glanced out the window. 

“Robb!” He glanced around, moving immediately to her side and his hands, by reflex landed on her hips, staring past her in horror at the library. 

“Fire. You stay here. I'll come back.” Arya looked worriedly at Valencia, who nodded briefly.

“Bedtime Arya, come.” She tugged the girl back to her bedchambers and Arya looked up to her with worried eyes. 

“Bran won’t die will he Val?” Valencia managed a laugh. 

“No, of course not Arya. Now, off to bed with you. If anything happens, you come to me or your brother, promise me.” Arya nodded. 

“I promise. Goodnight Val.”

Valencia made her way back up to Bran’s chambers and hesitated just before opening the door, her fingers closing around the dagger at her side. 

“You're not supposed to be here. No one is supposed to be here. It's a mercy. He's dead already.” She did not recognise the voice but she recognised the intent, slipping through the door as Catelyn cried out. 

“No!” The dagger in her hand was cool before she buried the dagger to it’s hilt in the back of the man’s skull, twisting it sharply as she kicked his feet from under him. Summer, Bran’s direwolf leapt past her, sinking it’s teeth into the assassin’s throat and for once, Valencia was glad for the beast’s presence.

Catelyn buried her face in her hands as Robb rushed back in, eyes sweeping the room, first moving to the direwolf sitting alert on the end of the bed, the blood covering both women’s hands and the man with a dagger in the back of his neck and his throat practically torn out. He moved first to his mother, who was trembling and then to Valencia, who also looked shaken, her pale eyes wide and her fingers twitching ever so slightly. Before he could stop himself, he enclosed her smaller hands in his and squeezed gently for a brief moment, 

“What happened?”

 

Valencia was shaking. Robb could feel it, though he was sure she was unaware of the notion, but her slim shoulder was pressed to his was knocking softly against his in a quick tattoo. Without thinking, he laid a palm on her knee and felt her shaking desist. He had set her and his mother apart to see that they had similar recounts and her story and Catelyn’s matched up, which was better for her sake. Catelyn glanced over at them and Robb saw the smile flicker briefly across her face. His mother liked the reserved Lannister girl. He swallowed, she would not be a Lannister much longer it seemed, soon she would be Valencia Stark. His mother had insisted on a union in the coming weeks, it would be a brief affair with only Winterfell taking part in the feast, but Lord Tywin Lannister was on his way up from Casterly Rock, Valencia’s childhood home.

Catelyn had summoned Maester Luwin, Theon and Rodrick Cassel to an audience and Valencia stood slowly as Robb did the same, making sure she was close to his side as Theon’s lustful eyes swept her. Valencia seemed to notice his leering and he felt warm fingers slip into his as she took his hand. Robb laced their fingers and Theon grinned wildly but Valencia didn’t lower her chin, eyes defiant and eventually Theon shied back, and Robb felt a spark of pride brighten through him. She was fierce enough to match the Kraken, who rarely backed down. He was also controlled by his base needs, his cock did a lot of the talking.

“What I am about to tell you must remain between us. I don't think Bran fell from that tree. I think he was shot at.” A hiss of breath left most of the gathered, noticeably this didn’t seem like news to the Lannister, who had straightened her spine enough so that Robb noticed but decided he would wait to confront her after. 

“The boy was always sure-footed before.” Luwin said quietly and Catelyn nodded, Robb watching his mother’s features contort briefly. “Someone tried to kill him twice. Why? Why murder an innocent child? Unless he saw something he wasn't meant to see.” Theon looked curiously at the gathered.

“Saw what, my lady?” Catelyn pursed her lips before Valencia’s eyes flicked up and the blonde wet her lips in a movement that Robb followed.

“What would he have seen from such a tree? Whether it looks over Winterfell or not, you cannot use that as your proof.” Catelyn looked ruffled by the sharp tone that had entered Valencia’s voice, all sweetness vanishing from the golden skinned girl. 

“I don't know. But I will say that I believe your family are involved. We already have reason to suspect their loyalty to the crown.” Valencia’s eyes flashed blue fire but she held her tongue none the less, aware that she was in fact, the minority. 

“Wary what you speak of my family Lady Stark. Us Lannisters may be cruel in our way, but that has kept our house alive for decades. We always pay our debts.” The venom lacing her words worked like a viper and Catelyn’s face wiped of any emotion, but her eyes were sad, Robb knew his mother too well. 

“Did you notice the dagger the killer used? It's too fine a weapon for such a man. The blade is Valyrian steel, the handle dragon-bone. Someone gave it to him.” Cassel started, clearly in an attempt to ease the tension amongst them all. Robb felt Valencia stiffen fully, her spine straightening and her fingers were clearly wrapped around the blade at her hip, a threat. 

“They come into our home and try to murder my brother? If it's war they want...” He spat out before he could stop himself, the rage burning his insides filling him with heat. Valencia made a soft sound and he looked to her. 

“I did not mean you. You are not like your siblings or your father.” He had hoped this would bring her hackles down but this seemed to enrage her even further as she drew her cheeks in and stood to her full height, still shorter than him but she was clearly burning with fury. 

“How dare you?” She snarled out, her voice low and there was a dangerous look to her. 

“You insult me, you insult my house and you dare insult my family?” She swung around, posture perfect and strode away to him, sending a mocking smirk over her shoulder as she vanished out of the door. Catelyn pressed a fist to her mouth briefly. 

“Robb. She saved Bran and I. I suggest a little more compassion towards her. She is alone in the world for now and your insults to her family are not appreciated clearly.” Theon glanced to Robb. 

“Just quietly, if it comes to war, you know I'll stand behind you.” Luwin gave them both dismissive looks, his eyes had since been fixed on the door that Valencia had departed from. 

“What, is there going to be a battle in the Godswood? Too easily words of war become acts of war. We don't know the truth yet. Lord Stark must be told of this.” Catelyn nodded, her mind immediately set into action. 

“I don't trust a raven to carry these words.” Her words gave clear warning, no one was to be trusted. 

“I'll ride to King's Landing.” Robb offered, he knew she would reject it, he was to be wed within the next month and he didn’t know if Valencia was to be trusted, lest allowing her freedom around Winterfell. Once they were wed and his seed filled her belly, then he could leave her but he knew, that this woman would take some taming.

“No. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell, Arya is too young. I will go myself. You have Valencia to think of.” Catelyn snapped out, and Robb stared at her in horror. 

“Mother, you can't.” Catelyn shook her head, hair so much like his own ruffling. 

“I must.” Cassel spoke up, diffusing the stare off between mother and son. 

“I'll send Hal with a squad of guardsmen to escort you.” No. Robb knew this would not be the way his mother wanted. He was correct, as his mother shook her head again. 

“Too large a party attracts unwanted attention. I don't want the Lannisters to know I'm coming.” Cassel looked torn. 

“Let me accompany you at least. The Kingsroad can be a dangerous place for a woman alone.” How could she go, Robb wondered, he needed her here to bless his union with Valencia, who disliked all but Arya and Catelyn on good days.

“What about Bran?” He asked, hoping that she would reconsider because of her child. 

“I have prayed to the Seven for more than a month. Bran's life is in their hands now.” Catelyn dismissed and Robb felt a pang of worry twist his gut. His mother took her leave and he glanced around the room once more, nodding at all assembled before he left to find Valencia. 

The halls of Winterfell were empty and the cold clung to the keep like a blanket. He pulled his furs tighter and spotted it. Movement, down in the yards where the practise dummies sat. Two figures weaved, one was a Lannister man, the other cloaked. The sword in their grip loosely and the swings were practised, calculated. Eventually, the Lannister man caught the sword beneath his boot and with a low growl the figure released it, kicking out at the Lannister before yanking a knife up from their boot and ducking briefly before slamming into the Lannister and shoving him backwards.

At the same time, the figure’s hood slipped free, and gold streaked hair slipped free. Robb’s eyes widened, he recognised that head nay instantly. There was only one in Winterfell that had hair that colour and she had stormed from the room earlier in a huff. Valencia grinned down at the man, he could see the white of her teeth flash as she pulled him up, knocking her shoulder gently against his before she stowed her knife and picked up the sword from the ground, still smiling. The man dipped her head to whisper something and her eyes found Robb’s after a brief search through the shadows. Her mouth quirked a tad before she mocked curtsied and turned on her heel, striding away from him yet again.

 

“Don't listen to it.” Old Nan said the next day as the crow on the window screeched. Valencia, sitting in the next window glanced over at her briefly before turning her face back into the cold warmth of the sun. 

“Crows are all liars. I know a story about a crow.” Old Nan continued, but Bran was unamused.

“I hate your stories.” Valencia scoffed quietly and the younger boy looked at her, curiosity brightening his sweet face. 

“I know a story about a boy who hated stories. I could tell you about Ser Duncan the Tall. Those were always your favourites.” Bran shook his head and Valencia giggled softly, not turning to see if Bran made a face at her this time. 

“Those weren't my favourites. My favourites were the scary ones.”

“Oh, my sweet summer child. What do you know about fear? Fear is for the winter, when the snows fall a hundred feet deep. Fear is for the long night, when the sun hides for years and children are born and live and die all in darkness. That is the time for fear, my little Lord, when the White Walkers move through the woods. Thousands of years ago there came a night that lasted a generation. Kings froze to death in their castles, same as the shepherds in their huts. And women smothered their babies rather than see them starve, and wept and felt the tears freeze on their cheeks. So is this the sort of story that you like? In that darkness, the White Walkers came for the first time. They swept through cities and kingdoms, riding their dead horses, hunting with their packs of pale spiders big as hounds…” The door opened and Valencia glanced towards it, spotted Robb and resumed staring into the distance.

“What are you telling him now?” He questioned Old Nan, though she could feel his eyes on her back. 

“Only what the little Lord wants to hear.” Old Nan countered and Robb spoke again, softer this time. 

“Get your supper. I want some time with him.” He waited till the door closed before he spoke softly. 

“One time she told me the sky is blue because we live inside the eye of a blue-eyed giant named Macomber.” Bran didn’t say anything for a bit and Valencia eyed the little one curiously. 

“Maybe we do.” She said quietly and Robb’s mouth quirked up slightly before he focused on Bran again. 

“How do you feel? You still don't remember anything? I've seen you climb a thousand times. In the wind, in the rain... A thousand times. You never fall.” Bran looked crestfallen. 

“I did though. It's true, isn't it... what Maester Luwin says about my legs? I'd rather be dead.” Robb bristled and Valencia swung her legs back over the windowsill. 

“Don’t ever say that.” Robb snapped, staring at his brother in horror. An expression flashed across Bran’s face. 

“I'd rather be dead.” Valencia let out an exasperated sound. 

“You are lucky to be alive. Do you know the story of my oldest cousin? Not the one your sister likes, no, the one my sister lost. Joffrey was sweet and beautiful and lovely, the smallest, most beautiful child I can remember. He was the most beautiful little bird and he never ever got the chance to even live. Don’t waste your life little Stark, you need to live with what you have.” Robb stared after her as she left, his heart clenching. She hadn’t been very old when this had happened but still, this loss was close to her heart. Bran was studying him when he glanced back to his little brother. 

“You like her don’t you?” Bran said but although he phrased it as a question, there was no doubt in the smaller boy’s eyes. Robb smiled softly, saying nothing, but his silence awarded Bran with an answer.

“The little Lord's been dreaming again.” Old Nan murmured to Theon as he entered the quiet bedchambers. 

“We have visitors.” The Greyjoy announced, eyes flitting to Valencia, who was laughing quietly with Arya as they attacked each other with wooden swords. She lowered the sword slowly, glancing to Arya who watched Theon with solemn eyes. 

“I don't want to see anyone.” Bran said unhappily and Valencia sighed quietly. 

“Arya go put these swords away please dear one.” Theon watched Arya slip out before he smiled at Bran teasingly.

“Really? If I was cooped up all day with no one but this old bat for company, I'd go mad. Anyway, you don't have a choice. Robb's waiting.” Valencia took that as her cue to summon Hodor whilst Bran remained stubborn. 

“I don't want to go.” Theon chuckled quietly. 

“Neither do I. But Robb's Lord of Winterfell, which means I do what he says and you do what I say. Hodor!” The big man strode over. 

“Help Bran down the hall.”


End file.
